


do you?

by scintillatingstars



Category: Shubh Mangal Zyada Saavdhan (2020)
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Bad Poetry, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Poetry, Prose Poem, based on blooming mauve, but go for it i guess?, is that a thing?, poem fic?, so if you haven't read you will probably not understand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:15:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25516396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scintillatingstars/pseuds/scintillatingstars
Summary: 'Blooming Mauve' through Aman's eyes.
Relationships: Aman Tripathi/ Original Character, Kartik Singh/Aman Tripathi
Comments: 12
Kudos: 25





	do you?

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the trigger warnings in tags. There is nothing graphic. It is implied. But please make sure it doesn't trigger you before reading.
> 
> This is Aman's perspective from 'blooming mauve', which is my other work in the fandom.

**_close your eyes,_ **

**_hear the silence._ **

**_crippling down,_ **

**_echoing loud._ **

  
It's dark. Aman can't see. Or perhaps he chooses not to. There is a thing about darkness, you know. It has its own shades and we perceive the darkness differently every time, measuring it against the darkness trapped within our own beings. If the dark outside is a shade darker than your own, you find solace it in, fall right into its arms, cry yourself to sleep into the oddly comforting bleakness. If the darkness outside is a shade lighter, it is condescending, suffocating, draping its hands around you, choking you slowly. It just reminds you that even if the darkness fades, a scintilla of light appears, the darkness within will still conquer and reign.

  
**_the darkness bared the reality,_ **

**_without a reflection._ **

**_the silence screamed the truth,_ **

**_without a syllable._ **

  
It wasn't always this dark. There were days Aman thought it cannot get any more brighter. Everything felt like floating on a fluffy cotton cloud. He winced and awed the light, wondering if anything has ever made him feel this warm and euphoric before. Aman reckons when did the days start getting dull. Perhaps, the transition was so stagnant he couldn't recognize the change or perhaps he was so blinded by the perception of his love, which was so pure and flawless.

  
_**do you see it?** _

_**past the blindfold of love;** _

_**past the myth of a mourning dove;** _

_**do you see it?** _

_**the fading shadow,** _

_**blending into the twilight;** _

_**losing its colours and might;** _

_**do you see it?** _

_**the saint dancing with angels,** _

_**laughing with devils** _

_**his white gown stained.** _

_**do you see it?** _

  
Was it when he couldn't find space to breathe and time to just be because Varun insisted to spend almost all their time together? Was it when he comprised mutely because his insecurities told him he'll ruin everything, for Varun is too perfect for him to wreck things with?

  
_**do you hear it?** _

_**past the saccharine lullabies;** _

_**past the honey-dipped lies;** _

_**do you hear it?** _

_**the mirror shattering in a distance,** _

_**the reflection cracking into pieces;** _

_**the cries peeking through creases;** _

_**do you hear it?** _

_**mellow whispers spanning to gruff growls,** _

_**like a siren seranading you** _

_**right into the trap.** _

_**ears bleeding dry, but you want it all,**_

_**do you hear it?** _

  
Was it that one time he started investing time maintaining his social life when his friends complained about his consistent absence and Varun got so mad about it and accused him of deliberately trying to avoid him? Or was it the semester break he wanted to see his parents to hopefully sort things out, talk to them but Varun guilt-tripped him into staying with him?

  
**_do you smell it?_ **

**_past the musky cologne;_ **

**_past the fragrance known;_ **

**_do you smell it?_ **

**_the acrid scent of burning,_ **

**_the strings ignite alive before eyes,_ **

**_too much for two worlds to collide._ **

**_do you smell it?_ **

**_metallic tinge in air,_ **

**_the intoxicated breathe,_ **

**_choking on tears, living on air relievers._ **

**_do you smell it?_ **

  
Was it when Aman went to a coffee shop with a new acquaintance? Apparently it was a date and Aman was cheating. Was it when Varun broke the poor guy's nose or was it when Varun burnt his cardigan sweater the one his mother weaved for him, the one he kept with him dearly? Apparently it was his punishment, punishment to 'cheat'.

  
**_do you taste it?_ **

**_past the mint cinammon flavoured;_ **

**_past the chocolate strawberries savoured;_ **

**_do you taste it?_ **

**_the smoky taste of whiskey,_ **

**_against the invasive tongue,_ **

**_the fading zest of the night young._ **

**_do you taste it?_ **

**_the noxious possession,_ **

**_biting in, it tastes like copper,_ **

**_but mostly like insanity._ **

**_do you taste it?_ **

  
Was it the first time he hit him? Drunk in a stupor, he never hesitated to strike him, overpowering him until Aman fought back, with hurt and disbelief in his eyes. Was it when it happened again? When Aman decided to leave and Varun begged him on knees for forgiveness and Aman like a fool believed him and stayed? Was it when he touched him when he didn't feel like? Was it when he manipulated him and he believed he wanted it? Was it when the kisses peppering on his neck made him feel ugly? Was it when the slightest of touch started to make him flinch? Was it when he cowered at his mere shadow?

  
**_do you feel it?_ **

**_past the delicate touches;_ **

**_past the double-edged sword of affection;_ **

**_do you feel it?_ **

**_fingertips cryptic, cold;_ **

**_marring cuts right into the skin;_ **

**_harmonizing with the soul akin._ **

**_do you feel it?_ **

**_body laced in mortal sins;_ **

**_teetering on the edge of fall;_ **

**_waiting for the ultimate last call._ **

**_do you feel it?_ **

  
When was it doesn't matter? It is a futile question. The real question is when did he know? Know that maybe he has a little fight alive in himself. Maybe drowning in an abyss of darkness, he needed a light. Was it when Kartik came forward to be an acquaintance? Was it when little endeavours with Kartik made him feel as if he is really alive and not merely breathing? Was it when someone taught him worth at his rock bottom? It still doesn't matter he thinks. What matters is he fought back like a warrior in his weakest moments. In the cold, deserted winter, he chose the warmth of the sunlight. 

  
**_the light glimmers,_ **

**_without sight of dark._**

**_the cacophony flutters,_ **

**_without a warcry._ **

  
The scars didn't make him ghastly. They make him strong. They reminded him of the battles he has fought, with life, with himself. He is a mosaic, a mosaic of beauty. Beauty in its most powerful form; vulnerability.

  
Darkness, whatever the shade it is. It fades. Not immediately. It takes time. Lightening shade by shade. They say time heals everything. It does. But you have to race. Race against time, the timelessness of time, balance against its velocity, meet its parallels, challenge its relativity.

  
**_open your eyes,_ **

**_hear the shore._ **

**_tides rushing,_ **

**_alive and loud._ **


End file.
